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Part 2

   The storm outside seemed to have only gotten worse. With two people dead, things weren't looking very bright for every one else anyways. Not wanting to worry about tripping over the corpses, they all decided to move the bodies into a vacant sitting room. After moving the bodies, the guests, the butler and the staff then migrated into the grand entrance/hallway. "What do we do now?" Anastasia asked, a bit of panic in her tone. "We figure out who this 'Charles Mansfield' is," James said. He said that, but the guests all recognized the name, someone from their own individual past, though they never actually saw his face. They all had certainly done something to offend him, but they couldn't quite place their fingers on it. After a few minutes, they decided to do a Scooby-Doo: Split up instead of sticking together. The cooking staff split off into pairs, Mr. Westwick went with a maid, James and Henry, Anastasia with Julian and Charlotte, and Mr. Wizrad by himself (trying to look manly now that he was a single man again). They all began to search the house for clues and the killer.

  James and Henry searched the guest bedrooms and what they believed to be Charles Mansfield's room. They found nothing in the guest bedrooms, at least nothing of interest that is. But when they got to Mansfield's room, it looked like it hadn't been used, or as a matter of fact even opened, in quite a few years. There was a portrait of Charles above the fireplace, and they finally thought they'd get to see his face, unfortunately the face on the painting had been ripped off. Henry had a feeling that figuring out what the killer looked like wouldn't be that easy. They rummaged through the drawers of the dresser, ransacked the closet, inspected the private bathroom, but found nothing. Feeling a bit frustrated, James smacked a wall lamp. Much to both James and Henry's surprise, the portrait above the fireplace opened into a secret hallway. Feeling curious and excited that they had finally found something, James climbed up. He helped Henry up and led the way into the secret hallway, with Henry following nervously behind...

  Anastasia and the two children searched the enormous library. Charlotte complained of being tired and wanting mommy, Julian told her to be patient and tried his best to explain that their mother wouldn't be coming back. Anastasia felt a bit suspicious of Julian who didn't seem that heartbroken, especially since she had read an article about some children who have murderous tendencies not that long ago. But then again, he had no motive to kill Mrs. Wizrad, though his mother was a drunk who was not really fit to be a caregiver. She was so engrossed in thought about this that she hadn't noticed the children leaving the room. She snapped out of her thoughts when she heard someone screaming in pain from the basement...

  Mr. Westwick and a maid named Gloria were searching the courtyard with umbrellas in hand and flashlights in the other. Mr. Westwick didn't think the killer would hide in the courtyard, but it was a good idea to search everywhere first, because it was like his dear old mum used to say, "Whenever you're looking for something, always check the most unlikely places first. If it's not there then you were most likely robbed you twit! Now go buy me some cigars." He began to think of his mother and London where he had grown up. He chuckled to himself a bit as he remembered his mother's very man-ish voice and features, when he heard someone screaming from the basement. He looked up to look for Gloria, but she was no where in sight. He figured she had run into the house first, and decided he should go too. If only he had looked for her, because then maybe poor Gloria wouldn't be dead under a bush right now...

  Mr. Wizrad had such bad luck that he had to search the basement. It was so dusty down there that his allergies were acting up. He regretted having gone to search by himself, because he was now ever so paranoid. Every time he heard a scuffling noise he thought it might be the killer, but it was merely just some common household mice that squeaked when he turned to look. He would sigh in relief and laugh a bit at how silly it was for him to get so worked up over nothing. He thought of his wife's untimely death, and missed her, since they had been married for quite a few years now. But he had been lusting after Anastasia since early this evening when she walked in the door. He began to fantasize about Anastasia leaving those little brats and coming down here with him. He heard someone approach from behind and lost a bit in his fantasy, thought it was Anastasia. When he turned around all giggly and smiley, his face turned into horror as he realized who it was. "It was YOU!" George exclaimed. He tried making a dash for the staircase, but with his size he had no stamina or leg power, so he tripped. He met his end at the hand of a butcher and his knife...

  Everyone ran into the basement to find the slaughtered remains of one Mr. George Wizrad, and a note, no doubt that it was left by the killer who was no where in sight. The note read as such: "I have struck once more. I am beginning to wonder just how dull you all are, since you haven't figured it out yet. Perhaps a headcount is in order? Hopefully that will narrow it down for you." The counted who was there, and who wasn't. The cooking staff, Anastasia, and Mr. Westwick were there. The only ones absent from this were James, Henry, Julian, Charlotte, and the maid named Gloria...

END OF PART 2.

   Welcome back for a new installment of Horrible Fairy Tales For One and All, with your narrator once again being TGG. This story takes place in a mansion, it involves a murder and a mystery. For this one I want YOU, THE READERS, to figure out who it is, and post your answer. I will let you know who it is when someone has guessed correctly, and I will then finish the story. The first person to get it right gets a story where they are the main character.

   It was a dark and stormy evening, the rain coming down in torrents. A car driving on a road towards a brightly lit mansion swerved a bit because of the wet road. "Are you alright Sir Weller?" the driver asked the man who sat in the back dressed in a tux with a nice looking top hat. "Quite all right Mr. Jenkins," replied James Weller. After a few minutes the car arrived at the luxurious house. The car drove away as James Weller approached the double doors. He knocked, and the door was answered by a middle aged man, most likely the butler. "You must be Mr. James Weller. Welcome, you are the last to arrive." James Weller then said, "Sorry about that. The storm got me and my driver a bit lost." The butler let him in, and showed him to a grand room where the other guests were waiting in. The butler then announced who everyone was. The woman with a short bob haircut and a beauty mark near her top lip was one Miss Anastasia Hewitt, a famous actress. The balding man with a quite large stomach, wearing a an awful shade of green suit, was Mr. George Wizrad, a well renowned professor. The very large woman who looked like she was in need of a muumuu, while eating most of the snacks set out for the guests, was Mrs. Paula Wizrad. The extremely timid looking man with the glasses was Mr. Henry Broscher. The two young looking children, were Charlotte and Julian Willis, the siblings who had inherited their deceased father's vast fortune. Charlotte was the youngest, and wore quite a frilly dress and was holding an enormous stuffed bunny. Her brother, Julian, had such a stern looking face for one so young. Their mother, Maria Willis, was already quite drunk and being obnoxious to the other guests. And finally, James Weller, Duke of Lutz, very good at samba. After the introductions, the butler excused himself to check on the other staff while the guests mingled amongst themselves.

   Paula nagged her husband George to go make friends with James, because James was a Duke, and you can always have friends of nobility. George decided he could use James and went to go make friends with him. James was talking with the timid man, Henry, and Anastasia when George came over to practically make an ass out of himself. George's mustache twitched, and he gave out a small snort, and while trying to appear to be very accustomed to "the way nobles are", he instead insulted the Duke. James then told George to "go away" in a very rude way. George gave out a huff and went back over to his wife.

   Charlotte and Julian decided to play a duet on the piano to entertain the other guests, but their mother, Maria, drunkenly decided it would be a better idea to start stripping. Anastasia and James had to stop her when they realized what she trying to do, Henry covered they children's eyes, and George and Paula started bellowing about how immoral Maria was and how needs to stop acting so promiscuous. After awhile, the conversations went back to normal, and Maria eventually passed out from being so drunk.

   After about an hour, the guests were called to dinner by the butler, Mr. Westwick. As they sat down to dine, there was an empty chair at the head of the table, where their host was supposed to sit, but their host was in fact not there. Henry asked Mr. Westwick who their host was. Mr. Westwick then replied, "You don't know? Well I wouldn't know either because the staff and I were only hired recently, but I don't think any of us actually met our employer." The guests found this a bit odd, but paid no  mind to it, as their dinner was then placed in front of them. When they had finished their meal, Mr. Westwick came back into the room with a letter in hand and grim facial expression. He read the letter "Good evening my wonderful guests. My name is Charles Mansfield, and I am your host. Welcome to my humble abode. As you can see, I am not dining with you tonight, however, I'm sure tonight will be quite exciting. And I sincerely hope that none of you have had too much to drink, for you see, there was something quite wrong with it. I hope you will enjoy what will happen next though." Everyone turned a bit pale and turned to look at Maria Willis, for she was the only one who had been drinking heavily that night. She was about to say something when she began to foam at the mouth, and started having a seizure of some sort. Charlotte let out a shriek and backed away as her mother slumped over onto her. Henry rushed over to her to check her pulse, for he was a doctor you see. He slowly shook his head and closed her eyes. He said in a small voice "She's dead." Charlotte cried and Julian looked like he wanted to cry, but held it in. The still living guests, the butler, and the rest of the small staff returned to where the guests had been relaxing until very recently.

   George was so angry his head seemed like a ripe tomato. "Our host is a madman! We should call the police at once!" He then proceeded to the telephone, but there wasn't even a dial tone. His face got even redder as he told everyone the phone lines had been cut. Henry suggested that they barricade themselves in the room and that they should be safe. Everyone agreed, and closed off the door and made sure the windows were locked. After 20 minutes the lights went out, and everyone began to panic. Then a pained scream was let out, then everyone went silent. It became so quite that only the heavy pitter patter of the rain could be heard. Anastasia felt a shiver run up her spine as she felt someone brush past her, with something cold and sharp. It left a scratch on her thigh. After a few minutes, the lights came back on, but Paula Wizrad lay in a pool of her own blood. George let out a cry and knelt beside her lifeless body. Julian then noticed the bloody knife used to kill Mrs. Wizrad on a small table with another letter. Though the table was next to Anastasia, so he grew a bit suspicious of her, but then realized that if she was the killer she wouldn't stand next to it, but then again that just might be what she wants them to think. So he told James about the letter. James went over to the table and read the letter aloud: "Why hello again my guests, two of you are now dead, and you all have yet to catch me. I'm a bit disappointed in you. Though I suppose I should at least give you a hint: I'm one of you. I'm in the room right this very second,and I know everyone's dirty little secret. So unless you want me to reveal those secrets about you to the world you better catch me." Everyone then looked at one another with looks of suspicion.

   End of Part 1.

... With ThatGreenGentleman as your dashingly handsome narrator. Now zip it, lock it, and put it in your pocket so I can tell the damn story.

  Twas the night before Halloween and all was quiet in the small town of Lurchville. All the lights within the town were off, except the streetlamps that eerily lit the streets. There was a fog that had seemed to roll in only a week before and had yet to disperse. Not a soul was stirring, not a peep, save for the house that belonged to one Artemisia Strenold and her husband Jerome. They had spent nearly the entire month digging up graves and finding scrap metal and knick-knacks and doo-dads, for their creations. For you see, Artemisia and Jerome were barren, so they decided to make children of their own instead of adopting. However, if you asked anyone in town, especially their neighbors, the married couple was called "twisted", "creepy", "sick", etc. Upon the table where Artemisia and Jerome were working, there lay two small bodies. The flesh of the two bodies was covered in stitches where they had to attach the pieces. There was metal around their bones, to keep the brittle bones of the deceased from breaking. Storm clouds rolled in at an alarming rate, lightning and thunder blazing like guns. Artemisia and Jerome had waited for this day for years, the day when they would finally have children. They pulled on the chains and table rose, ever so slowly towards the lightening. They waited a few moments, and then the lightening struck. When the table came back down, their new children's hearts began to beat. The children, a boy and girl, both opened their eyes to reveal white irises, solid black pupils, and a black ring to complete the chilling gaze they had. The new parents quickly gave them names, Morticia and Lucien. The children soon picked up on how to display emotions, what they liked and disliked, everything they needed to know. Truly happy was the completely formed family, though the ending is not what they would've ever expected.

  The next night was Halloween, and the family decided to go out. However, the other residents of Lurchville had looks of horror and disgust, as the strange looking children and their strange parents walked down the streets, trick or treating like everyone else. Angered and fearing them, they soon formed an angry mob. Trying to protect their children, Artemisia and Jerome told Morticia and Lucien to run away. The parents tried their best to fend off the mob, but were badly beaten.

  Trying to find someplace to hide, the twins decided to hide in an old, decaying windmill. This might've worked, if the mob hadn't been right on their tail. The terrified children went all the way to the top floor and out onto the balcony of the windmill. As they looked at the crowd drawing near, they could feel their hearts beating faster and faster. The mob poured some sort of liquid at the base of the structure, and lit a match. Morticia did not know what it was, but Lucien did and his eyes got wide with terror. Within seconds the windmill was ablaze. The flames licked at their skin, and they screamed in pain and for the parents to save them. Morticia's heart began to beat so fast that it burst. Lucien, now alone in the burning inferno, held his sister's once again dead body and cried helplessly. His skin began to burn, and then his heart too, began to beat wildly and burst. His body slumped over his sister's, though whether it was because of rigor mortis, or because of his strong will to never let go of his sister, he held her tightly. The windmill then collapsed in on their corpses. And burned until it was nothing but embers left.

  Artemisia and Jerome had followed the mob all the way to the windmill. They had watched they're children burn alive (though their children actually died of their hearts exploding). Artemisia screamed out for her children while Jerome cried until his entire body was shaking. The entire town of Lurchville laughed cruelly at the grieving parents. When the townspeople left, the parents slowly approached the embers. They looked upon the forms of their dead children. The only reason they could see it was because of the metal they had once placed around their bones. Artemisia and Jerome decided the townspeople would pay. They wouldn't outright kill them like in the horror movies, oh no. They were going to make them suffer, like their children had in the inferno that had once been the windmill. The townspeople would pay, and they would pay with interest.

  Twas the night before Halloween, and though I disbelieved that it could not be, it was unfortunately so.
THE END.

I want a costume too.

It has been more than 24 hours! 

I want a costume too.

Trix, the question of whether attractive people receive preferential treatment has been explored in numerous studies, articles, and books. The answer is yes, they do.

http://www.economist.com/node/21526782

I am aware that it wasn't exactly a unique curiosity.  I was asking, specifically, of the people here.

Honestly, I was hoping, for once, to spark some creative responses.  When that failed, I decided to play along and poke the bear.  Even THAT failed.  I mean god damn, what's a brotha gotta do to get some action up in here?

Perhaps use correct spelling, like "brother" instead of "brotha"? Maybe then we could take you seriously?

   Fuck you people at school, always walking too slow and holding everyone up! Fuck you people at school who randomly stand in the hallways talking about "What a whore Jane Doe" is. Fuck you people making out in the hallway for no reason, especially in the middle of the hallway. What do you want me to do, play limbo to get past you while you're sucking someone's face into yours? I have to shove people out of the way just to get anywhere, but you know what? I make it look FABULOUS. When there's a group of people talking in the center of the hallway, I walk right through them and they just yell "Fucking bitch! Watch where you're going!" And I yell back at them "BITE ME DOUCHEBAG!" and then they look as if I kicked a puppy into traffic. They can call me an asshole all they want, but it's their fault for always being in my way like a bicyclist being in a car's way. If you can't walk fucking fast enough, stay to the side or I will kick your ass to get moving. Make me late to class and I WILL EAT YOUR HEART OUT WITH SOMEONE SAYING "FINISH HIM!"  

Rant over.

   Waking up in an unfamiliar place, the boy notices that it's dark. All around is pitch black, but he can still see perfectly clear. The only problem is that there is nothing to see, other than the pitch black of course. The small child got to his feet, and began to walk, only hearing the clack-clack of his shoes. It seems like he was walking forever until he saw something in the distance. It was a faint light, but it was something instead of nothing. The boy ran towards the light, until it's shape came into view. It was lamppost, and next to it was the most comfortable chair you could ever imagine.  Upon seeing this, he felt a little disappointed. You would feel disappointed too if all you found was a chair and a lamppost instead of a way out of the darkness. He decided to rest in the chair for a bit, and as he approached he didn't notice that as he got closer to the lamppost, the larger his shadow became (not like he would've noticed anyways since it was so dark). As the small child sat in the chair, he pondered about how he got here and where he had come from. He didn't get very deep into his thoughts, because his shadow stepped into the light. It looked exactly like him, except it was pitch black, with red eyes, and what appeared to be small horns. Startled at the sight, the boy could do nothing as his shadow shoved him deep into the chair, until the boy was enveloped in the chair. He thought he would suffocate , but found that he breathe just fine. Soon his mind was engulfed with visions of a world that was familiar yet foreign to him. It was a place with blue skies and blue oceans, a place with mountains and grass. A place with sunlight and warmth, which was very much the opposite to this world of darkness and cold. He began to cry at the vision of a world he wanted so much to be a part of, until his mind was struck with the other images. Images of war, death, pestilence, and pain. He cried even harder and rejected that world that only moments ago he wanted so badly. He wanted to stay within the chair, for it was warm and somewhat comforting, like a cradle of safety that you never want to leave. Unfortunately for him, the same pair of black hands that had put him there dragged him back to the cold and dark realm where he started. When he opened his eyes, the red glaring eyes welcomed him back to the darkness. The boy realized that he was in this dark world because he was neither living nor dead. He and his shadow wandered off into the darkness away from the comforting chair and lamppost, he was at peace with not wanting to be a part of the world with warm light so long as he had his shadow to keep him company in the dark.

  And then I woke up and realized it was all a dream. But it was quite a comforting dream in a strange way.
THE END.

Yes, I actually had this dream, more than once actually.

   "THE END IS NIGH, THE END IS NIGH!" cried the man with the news bell. Though his lungs felt burned by the cold air, he continued to shout, "THE END OF ALL THE STORIES HAVE COME! THE AUTHOR IS PUTTING AN END TO ALL THE INTERTWINED STORIES!" The townspeople all panicked, as did many other towns and cities where all the stories I have written about happened. As you, dear readers, may have or haven't noticed by now, but all the stories I have written in this thread have all been intertwined in one way or another. Mainly because they all take place at the same time. In a way I suppose this is the final chapter, and I hope very much that you all enjoy this like you have enjoyed the other ones. Remember now, ALL THE STORIES ARE INTERTWINED, I WILL NOT REPEAT MYSELF ABOUT THIS UNTIL THE VERY END.

  Jal walked among the gravestones, looking for a specific one. This grave visit had been like the previous ones, except for the fact that she brought a guest with her. Jal's guest wore a Hood, so you couldn't see their face. When they arrived at the grave of Juris, both of them saw how neat it was kept, and how many flowers there were (It looked like such because of all of his neighbors from The Slum who had known him since they were children and such). Jal knelt down and placed a sunflower on Juris' tomb, for it was his favorite flower. The person said nothing, and only looked at grave. Jal turned around and said, "Don't be so rude Zeit! You two loved each other, don't you think you should say something? At least cry you bastard." Zeit lifted the hood to reveal the face and identity that I have kept hidden. Zeit knelt down beside Jal and said "Juris you idiot, I told you to wait for me." He then began to cry and Jal said to calm down. Not far off from where they were, an elderly couple, Neil and Alison, were visiting their deceased friend's grave. The same friend who had always been in love with Alison. They both silently wept over the lonely dead woman's grave.

  In the town on the coast Donnie had grown old and weary with age. He gazed out onto the sea, he muttered under his breath "Finally got what you wanted, didn't you Vanna? Wanted me all to yourself, that you did." As Donnie stood up, his bones creaked and moaned. He moved over to the piano and began to play a sorrowful tune. He sat there at the piano for three days, without stopping the beautiful music. On the morning of the fourth day, the music stopped. A few townspeople got in a boat and rowed out to Donnie's ship. A young man named Dave found him first, and swears to this day, he saw Donnie as a young man saying "Thank you for finding me" and then reverting to his old corpse.

  The ballerina still sat in her wheelchair last time we saw her. Something sparked within her, a new life perhaps. Or maybe it was one of her old rivals saying "How pathetic she looks", we'll never know for sure. But one thing that is definitely for sure, is that she got the use of her legs back. She could dance again, and was the star of a new ballet. John sat in the crowd watching the performance with his wife. He said he came only because his wife wanted to go, but the real reason was because his deceased twin, Mary, had always wanted to be a ballerina. As he thought back to his childhood, it wasn't as great as others, but it wasn't too bad because Mikey had been there for him and his sister. He shed a few tears, at remembering his sister's death and that Mikey had passed away only last year. At the end of the performance, his face was streaked with tears, but he stood up and applauded the ballerinas like everyone else.

  At some point Father Time realized that the young man who would replace was himself. It was just an unending loop of time, because after all, Father Time can't die nor can he be born, he just exists. Perhaps the previous Father Time, or himself he had met all those years ago, knew this too. He couldn't be quite sure, but as he thought of this, his thoughts drifted to cleaning up those broken clocks in the hallways. Or maybe he shouldn't touch those in case he ruins the fabric of time and space by doing so, because he had no idea what those clocks actually were. So he sat there and pondered about this for quite some time, until he got bored and decided to go watch the mortal realm.

  Eliza was nothing more than a shell of her former self. She had children with the man she was forced to marry, but never thought of them as her own. She couldn't even bring herself to look at them, especially when she told them that they were the reason why she couldn't ever be free. She was a horrible mother and she knew it. Eliza couldn't remember a time when she had held her children, if she had ever done so. She lay in her bed, an old woman, regretting her life and wishing she could do it all over again.

  It had been about ten years since Lily died, but Phillip still dreamed about her. He dreamed about her because he couldn't forget, he wished they had more time together, but it's impossible to wish for something so far out of reach. Within his dreams though, he could see her as if she was still alive, and these dreams were really the only thing that kept him sane. Because his other half, his "missing puzzle piece" had left the world of the living long ago, and he missed her terribly, every day.

  Harold had a job to do at beach resort, that involved investigating an ambassador from Endora and why the ambassador was always trying to "make the sexy time with the womens" or something like that. Instead he decided to relax and watch the waves. Down the beach a ways, he saw Casandra. Harold couldn't tell if he was dreaming, or if he was actually seeing her there. When she came closer he said "I'm sorry I've been such an ass to you for so long, maybe one day you can forgive me for all the horrible shit I've done." She sat down next to him and said "Well you're going to have to work hard if you want me to forgive you." They sat there staring at the waves, while the Endoran ambassador was partying with all the womens.

  When she woke up, she remembered who she was. But she also remembered that horrific dream of the train and Him and the small piano. She thought it was a dream, until she looked down, and saw the small piano. Her heart began to race, and she looked up. He stood in the corner, his grotesque figure and voice seemed to say "I'll follow you forever because you left the train of the damned!" Her eyes reeled back and she passed out in the hospital bed.

  Emily and Octavia had traveled for many days and nights from the hospital that they had left behind. It was raining and dark, the only thing to guide their way was their glowing eyes. They finally made it to their destination, which was the equivalent to Mount Olympias. They climbed the mountain, and when they reached the top, they both saw the same type of old technology that Octavia had come across that had made her insane. Octavia approached it first, and then Emily. They both placed their right hand on a circular stone, and the machine began to radiate red and blue light. The wind howled, the rain came down in torrents, and then their entire bodies glowed blue and red. Then finally, they both disappeared. Perhaps they became gods, or maybe they were also eaten by the ancient technology. We'll never know.

  The people of the widespread cities and towns where my stories had taken place now screamed in terror as the stories came to an end. And just like what happened with the people of Pomppei, the people became frozen in time within my memory. And perhaps one day, they'll spring back to life and more stories will be written about them, and perhaps not.

  If we're going down in flames, then I'm dragging all of you along for the ride.
THE END.

P.S. I hope you all have enjoyed all of the stories and characters. I thank you guys for always reading them, even if they were crappy.

Bachmann thinks HPV vaccinations cause mental retardation, Perry is organizing "prayer warriors", and ALL of the GOP candidates at the debate the other night said that people dying unnecessarily is FUNNY, and one of them will no doubt be the next president.

Could they get any dumber?
       \

   In her dreams, her dream world is amazing. She can do whatever she pleases, like bending the laws of physics and such. If she wanted to she could have a picnic on the moon with the cow who tried jumping the moon, but got stuck on it. In reality however, her body lay in a hospital room, hooked up to different machines. In reality, she was a girl who's life depended upon machines. The sad fact was, she was a girl who could never wake up. But perhaps it's for the best. Because the last time she was actually awake was when she was 5, and that was 11 years ago. So the girl and her machines will remain in that hospital room, slowly aging physically, but eternally young mentally. Wars could come and go, and she'd never know it. Natural disasters could happen right outside her door, and she'd still be dreaming happily. But in this hospital, there was a woman, who used to be named Octavia. And she'd always wander into the girl's room and start talking incoherently, as if they were having conversations. The staff members always wondered how Octavia got out from the high security mental ward, all the way to the girl's room, while wearing a restraining coat. And this would go on for a few years, Octavia would go and see the sleeping girl, Emily, everyday. But unfortunately, good things must come to an end. I've seen the ending of this story and it gets worse.

   The princess sleeps with electronic lullabies.
THE END.

   Emily always met this strange girl in her dreamworld. The girl had glowing blue and red eyes with the name of Octavia. When they first met in the dreamworld, Octavia spoke complete jibberish, but what she was trying to convey with her jumbled words seemed important. After that, the next few times Octavia appeared, her speech was more coherent, but there were still some missing pieces to her puzzle of words. They'd have conversations about random things, and every time Octavia appeared, Emily could hear the sounds of jumbled words far off in the distance, and knew they came from the waking world. And because of this, Emily was fairly certain that Octavia was a real person. But one day, in the dreamworld of Emily's mind, Octavia had some serious business to discuss. Octavia plucked out her own eye that glowed blue, and placed it one of Emily's eye sockets, and then both of Emily's eyes glowed that eerie blue, while Octavia's eyes glowed a menacing red. Then Emily woke back up to reality, her eyes still glowing blue, and there stood Octavia, next to the hospital bed with her own eyes glowing red. They both stayed put and just stared at one another for awhile,until a nurse came in and saw them. She ran out into the hallway to tell everyone that Miss Emily had woken up, and she did, but they both appeared behind her. The hospital staff never left the building that day, but Octavia and Emily did.

   In a rainy town, balloons dance with devils.
THE END.

   She looked out at the passing scenery from the train window, as the sound of a non-existent piano echoed. She didn't remember how she got on the train, or where it was heading. Hell, she didn't even remember who she was. But she did remember a piano. It was a Steinway if she had remembered correctly. When she was a child it was the only thing she could do to keep her parents from fighting. They''d tell her how proud they were and how she had such talent. She didn't enjoy playing it, but it was a small price to pay to keep her family from breaking. Pulling herself free from the nostalgia, she looked around the train car. She wasn't sure if her vision was blurry or not because the other passengers didn't have faces, or they did but she couldn't see them. She turned her attention back to the train window. The piano music echoed louder and louder, but there was no piano to be seen. The ticket man came around asking "Ticket please." When it was finally her turn, she said "I don't have one." He whispered "Don't let the other passengers hear that, they might get jealous." She didn't quite get it, but the ticket man told her to follow him after a few minutes. He moved along to another train car, and after a few moments, she got up and followed. But leaving the comfort and security of the seat, she was finally able to see the hellish and disfigured faces of the others passengers. The other passengers paid no attention to her, and she moved along.

   After catching up with the ticket man in the dining car, he explained to her that she did not belong on this train or it's destination because she had no ticket. He also explained that because she has no ticket, she can leave and go home. When she tried to ask him about the other passengers, he only replied with "You'll have to figure that out for yourself. I'm already in trouble just trying to help you out." He excused himself from the car, but over his shoulder he said she'd have to find the way out herself. She sat there for awhile, thinking of ways to get off a moving train. She looked out a window once more, she could see what was out there, yet at the same time she couldn't. When she glanced down at the table she saw a small note. Upon that note was something of a riddle or puzzle:

    "On this train there are many passengers. The answer you seek is where the most grotesque passengers reside and piano echoes abound. But tread with care, for one wrong move shall seal your doom.

   The note's writing sent shivers down her spine. Since she came from the very last train car, she guessed she'd have to go to one of the front cars. She moved into the next car. The passengers seemed more aware of their surroundings than the ones from her car. They only craned their heads in unison to look at who had entered the room. They seemed a bit perplexed to see that it was another passenger instead of a train staffer, but the girl paid no mind to this and kept moving. She opened the door and moved into the next room while the piano echoes got louder.

   In this room, however, she couldn't hear herself think because of the blaring music. The last two passenger cars looked like family hour, while this one practically screamed "Hysteria". There were flashing lights, dancing cages, things you'd find in dance club on the verge of a rave.  She was bumped about by the crowd when she tried to get across the room. She ended up falling onto a couch, next to someone who looked like a cross between a drug lord and a notorious man whore. To be quite frank he scared her, and he asked "Where's your ticket?" Her eyes got wide and she made a dash for the door. He saw that as a sign that she didn't have one, and commanded everyone's attention to be turned to her. The music stopped and she could her the adrenaline pumping. The passengers began to grab at her, eager for the chance to give up their tickets. She made it through the door before she was caught, and she could hear people cursing at the lost chance. She sank against the door as she listened to her heart beat slow down. When she looked around the new car, she saw the most grotesque figures she'd ever seen.

   It looked like some sort of S&M chamber, but taken to the extreme. People were overly stretched, others had their skin pulled off, etc. This was where the piano echoes were the loudest. She began to look for the piano, being as quiet as possible, since the passengers here looked like they were sleeping. She accidentally bumped into an overly stretched person, and the person's eyes snapped open. The person mouthed "So you don't have a ticket either?" She responded with a head shake. The person mouthed "What you're looking for is in the engine room, but be careful, that's where HE is." The girl was glad that she could read lips, for it was extremely useful in this situation. But before she could say thank you the person's eyes snapped shut again. She slowly made her way to the engine room.

   Within the engine room, she saw the people who ran the train. But they were all asleep. Among them, she saw the ticket man. She had no idea what she was looking for. That is, until she came upon a miniature piano, which must have been where the echoes came from. She grabbed it, but then the train staff opened their eyes and began to shriek "NONONONONONONONONONONONO! NO ONE MUST EVER LEAVE THIS TRAIN! NONONONONONONONONONO!" The girl got up and ran, with the small piano cupped in her hands.

   As she ran back through the train cars, the passengers that were once alive and moving were now nothing more than skeletons and corpses. She was sickened at the sight but kept running, for if she stopped, they, no HE, would catch her. The train staff had morphed together to become HE if you were wondering. She finally made it to the car where she started and ran out to the small deck at the end of it. The scenery was now clear. It was nothing but endless water and sky. When she looked down she could see that the train tracks were on a small raised hill, but were still underwater. She looked over her shoulder and saw that he was still coming. She climbed up on to the railing and jumped off, and the shrieks got louder. She landed in the water with the piano and kept sinking further and further, until she hit reality.

   This would be a fairy tale for two if such a thing actually existed.
THE END.

[YOU]

   She curled into herself. The girl hadn't meant for it to happen, but it did. Out of all the guilt trips people used on her, she actually felt guilty this time, without anyone trying to make her feel guilty. She didn't want to peek at what was across the room. She was afraid of it, and new the moment she looked at it, reality would hit her like a freight train. So she hid in her own world for awhile, until it began to talk to her. "Hey!" It said, "Look at me! Look at what you've done to me!" It's voice was thick and disgusting, and would send shivers down your spine if you could hear it. It's voice was thick as a concrete and disgusting as if it had a stench to it. It kept bugging her from across the room to the point where she finally looked up and glared at it. Then she regretted doing so. It's eyes got wide and began to screech "Don't look at me! Don't look at me! If you look at me I'll destroy you! Don't look at me, don't look at me!" It's form is what repulsed her the most though. There were stains on the wall and floor from where it happened. She couldn't help but retch as it continued to screech at her. The girl couldn't peel her eyes away from what she created. Oh god, how could she have created something so grotesque as that? Even as she thought about it, It seemed so pitiful and helpless, just screeching "Don't look at me!" though she could understand why It wouldn't want to be looked at. I mean really, would YOU want to be looked at if you looked like It?

   The twisted reality of things.
THE END.

Hey Charley


Dok seems quiet tonight...cat got his tongue or what?

Just a bit busy at work¹.  Did you have something to say, or were you just here to brag about how your "avvie" is somehow offensive?  Anything of substance, or just more monkey howling?




¹  It's this thing some of us have to do, on occasion.

See? Punk as fuck

... How the hell is that "Punk as fuck"?